Advice
by enjoiturbulence
Summary: A series of internal monologues. To start, from Jim's POV, but the possibility to branch out is possible.
1. Chapter 1

My Pop once told me, "If there's something you want, something you need, boy, you had better fight for it." He told me this one Christmas, when I was twenty. We were sitting in his workshop, sitting on worn but comfortable thrift store chairs, sipping apricot brandy to keep warm as we looked out the open door as the snow silently fell upon the landscape. He started talking about him and my mom, about how they got together, how she was with someone else when they first met but he knew immediately he wanted to grow old with her, to be with her and her alone. At first, they were friends. She was in love with this guy, she'd been with him for years, but my Pop, he knew they were wrong for each other. The guy was a jerk, and there was no other way to put it, but she loved him and for a while, they were friends, my mom and dad. But, considering they are my mom and dad, I guess you can tell how things ended up. He fought for her.

When my Pop told me that, well, I didn't think much of it. Time passed, years disappeared into the nothing of history, and college was over and somehow I ended up working in the paper industry, thinking it'd simply be a stop before something bigger and more important. Before a career. Then, of course, I met her. One day she was sitting at the reception desk when I came in for the day. I didn't really think anything of her, at first. Not to say she wasn't beautiful, she was just there. I know that sounds callous, but in I've never believed in love at first sight. She was cute, I thought that, but that was all. I introduced myself and shook her hand. It was small and warm, and incredibly soft. She smiled, a genuine smile, one that radiated kindness and purity and whatever else it is the poets talk about, but that's when it happened.

I sat down and noticed, the way my desk was positioned, I had a perfect view of her as she looked at the computer screen, staring vacantly, with nothing to do. Michael came out of his office once everyone had arrived for the day, and in a trademark Michael moment, managed to completely embarrass the poor girl in front of all her coworkers. She looked to me, for some reason, and all I could do was grin something stupid to try and suppress my laughter. Immediately, I regretted it, but then she smiled to, and something clicked in my head and I was resolved.

Things quieted down and we went to work. I made two sales that morning. Back then, I was actually productive. This was before the whole prank thing got underway. She was the instigator, after a moment when Dwight tried to impress her with his Orange belt. We ended up running it through the shredder and leaving the pieces around the office for him to find. After that, I asked her to lunch and she said yes, and buddy, all was right with the world.

It was surprisingly not at all awkward. At least, until we both reach for the check at the same time and I realize there's a ring on her finger, and buddy, all was shit in the world. But I suck it up and try not to dwell on it and that's how we go about the next three years. But, I do dwell, I always dwell, all I fucking do is dwell. I'm the fucking champ when it comes to dwelling and no matter who else enters my life, I can't help but compare them to the receptionist.

I forgot my father's words for a long while. They're always there in that space of my head reserved for all the advice I've gotten and never actually used. Then, I'm dating this girl and she's nice and all and I invited her to this work thing, thinking it'd be fun because, really, Katy was a lot of fun. But then, the other girl, the first girl, well, the guy who gave her the ring had some drink in him and decided, what the fuck, let's do this, so in front of everyone on the boat, he sets a date for the wedding and then, it seems real, and then I look into the future and all I see is this abyss, the big empty, and the girl I'm with, she says something, just sort of searching for a good word from me. And for once in my miserable life, I'm honest, and I ask her to break up with me. Then I talk with Michael, and for a moment, he's not Michael, and what he says, it reminds me of what my dad said, and I realize that it's fight or flight.

I get an opportunity, and then another. So I stand before her, like a man on an auction block, and for the second time in recent memory, I'm honest about what's important. And her eyes, they actually see me for a moment, and then she says "No", in slightly more words. So I retreat to lick my wounds, but those fucking words come back into my mind and I find her again, and I do what I've wanted to do since the first time I saw that smile for a moment it feels like that smile is below my lips but she says "No" again and fight or flight, I've no choice but flight.


	2. Chapter 2

There's a door, there, and it's as though I'm being called to enter it. The world is quiet and there's a faint light with no obvious source and though I may not really be here the door is real and all I can think to do is walk through it. The door, I notice, is the color of her hair.

* * *

What you've got to understand is this: I'm not a coward. Running, that's not what I did. What I did was protect myself.

I couldn't stay there and watch her marry him and I couldn't continue with my lie, so I told her and she rejected me while looking me dead in the eyes. Flight, yeah. I fought and then I flew away, the wind carrying me along the currents until I had a new home in a new town; a new life in a new world. That word: new, well, never before had I actually lived it, but considering my options, I decided to go for it.

It's easy, really, not what I thought a promotion would be like. This sort of work, you can do it without actually thinking on it, which is rather unfortunate, considering what is hanging over my head morning to night. That "what" is a "who", truth be told. Though, you know that.

The days of my life began to blend together. Wake up, work, go home, drink, sleep, rinse, repeat. You know the drill.

Used to be, I'd look up and see her. Now, I look up and see the back of Andy's head, the white flakes on his shoulders. Turn around and there's this girl, Karen. Classically beautiful, exotic, whatever you want to call her, she's not Pam and no matter how much I squint she'll never begin to look like her. At first, this Karen, I know she doesn't like me. Then, something shifts, and she starts laughing at my jokes. Something starts to shift in me, as well, and I stop comparing her to Pam as much, though it never stops.

And then, then I get word that she didn't go through with the biggest mistake of her life and I've never been happier for her, though there's more shifting and I can't help but stay up at night thinking of things I shouldn't think about anymore. Never anything necessarily wrong, see, just, things I shouldn't think about. Don't press, you know.

And then, of course, word comes down and done is done with the new office and I've got to decide whether or not to go back to the old one, all the while Karen sits there behind me and I can feel her eyes on me, though that's a technical impossibility, I can feel them on me, wanting to hear something, anything from me, and the first words I say, well, they hurt her, I can see it in her beautiful, dark eyes, but for some reason I make it up to her, something I know I shouldn't do, because, buddy, there is only so much room in any heart but for some reason I think there's enough for her.

So, we go back, and the first thing I notice when I walk through those doors is the band of skin around her ring finger that is far lighter than the rest, as if something sat there for several years, collecting dust, and there's this movement in my stomach, as if I'm going to purge myself of all impurities, but it passes like it always does, and I make some joke and, buddy, time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping like my heart down into the abyss. All I want to do is kiss her, but, stupid fucking me, there's someone else in my world and the one thing I can't do is violate that, as painful as I know it will be.

MY desk has been taken by the temp, and though I can now watch Karen as much as I please, I can now physically feel Pam's eyes searching the back of me and she can't, can't be thinking what I think she's thinking. I think. All I do is fucking think, these days.

Look, I know I should be over this. Really, I do. Thing is, I'm not. There's nothing I can do about it. I can't love Karen. It's a psychological impossibility, to love her, because when I look at her I don't see Pam; when we joke around her laughs are automatic, forced, false, lies, atonal, God in heaven do you understand? When she laughs it's not the laugh I dream about. When she smiles, it's not the smile the makes me feel like I could die a happy man. When she looks at me, it's not love. I know she thinks that's what she feels for me, but I hope for her sake it's not. Infatuation can hurt, but not like love does. Buddy, can you dig that?

* * *

There's a door the color of her hair and when I walk through it my lips are again on hers and she's really smiling and she's the one who kissed me and this is what I'm here for, what I was born for: to be kissing her. I don't know if you understand. I don't myself, but fuck it. The universe is too big to understand. Kind of like love. Only, this time, it doesn't hurt. 


End file.
